


Tooth & Claw

by fullmooneyes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Both Underage, Both are sixteen, Claiming Bites, Conflicted Kylo Ren, Dark, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dominant Kylo Ren, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Mating Bites, Mounting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Sleepy Cuddles, Underage Rape/Non-con, Werewolf Turning, kinda loving, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28538517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmooneyes/pseuds/fullmooneyes
Summary: CW: Darkfic, Rapefic, UnderageSixteen year olds Ben and Rey have been dating for a year. Ben’s the perfect boyfriend, sweet and gentle, so when he gets sick while his parents are out of town, Rey doesn’t think twice about going over to take care of him.Ben needs her. Rey doesn’t know how right she is.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 9
Kudos: 119





	Tooth & Claw

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fine. Little. Pieces.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21369949) by [MalevolentReverie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentReverie/pseuds/MalevolentReverie). 



> Don't worry- Iniquity is coming back soon! I just needed to expel this one first.
> 
> Credit to MalevolentReverie and her werewolf darkfic for inspiring this. She's a queen.

“Rey?”

They’ve only been dating a year, but she can tell by his voice on the phone that something’s wrong. It’s weak and raspy. Not like Ben at all. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Don’t know. I don’t feel so good. My head hurts.” It’s almost a whine now, which is _really_ unlike Ben. He downplays everything and hates calling attention to himself. That must mean it’s really bad. The hairs on the back of her neck rise.

Nobody is closer to her than Ben. They’re pretty much the only ones looking out for each other because their parents are never around. Even so, she doesn’t want to be too clingy, so tries to swallow down the worry in her tone. Rey doesn’t want to be _that_ kind of girlfriend. 

“Did you call your mom?” She’s already slid off the bed and is pacing her small bedroom. 

“No. They’re busy.” His parents are out of town at some work conference. He’s left alone a lot because they trust him not to get into trouble. They know Ben is a good kid.

Rey decides fast. “Okay, I’m coming over.” She throws her hairbrush and cell phone charger into a duffel bag and opens a drawer to rummage for something clean. “I’ll tell Unkar I’m sleeping over at Rose’s.”

“You don’t have to.” His voice shakes a little. It scares her to hear him like this. “I don’t want to get you sick, too, baby.”

Whenever Ben calls her that something goes gooey and warm inside. “Hush. I’ll be there soon. Drink some water.”

“Okay.” 

She can hear the rush of relief in his voice. 

He needs her. 

___________

  
  


The TV noise leaks out onto the front porch, so he’s probably downstairs waiting for her. Rey raps lightly on the door, shifting the plastic bags in her hands. QuikMart was on the way, so she picked up some orange and lemon-lime Gatorades, a couple of cans of soup and a sleeve of saltine crackers. The typical sick kid snack pack. 

When the door swings open, her smile falls as she tries not to gasp. Her normally-strapping, six-foot-two tank of a boyfriend is a mere shadow of himself. Shoulders sloped forward, dark hair tangled and lank, with a face as pale as a new moon.

“Oh, baby.” She rushes forward to wrap her arms around his waist. He flinches as the bags hit his thighs, and she feels his tight muscles jump under her hands before he leans into her and exhales. Ben has nearly a foot over her and is a wall of muscle (“A chess player in a linebacker’s body,” his Dad says), yet it feels like she’s the one holding him up right now.

_“Ugh,”_ Ben groans. “I don’t want you to get this shit, too. Could be contagious.”

“I don’t care,” she says fiercely.

Once he’s seated back in front of the TV, she hands him the orange Gatorade first, a large one. He proceeds to chug it down. She puts the back of her hand to his forehead. 

He’s a furnace. 

“You’re burning up! Did you take your temperature yet?”

“I don’t know where the thing is,” he shrugs.

She rolls her eyes and arranges a blue-and-white crocheted blanket around his shoulders. Not sure if you’re supposed to do that for a fever, but it feels right. “Ok, I’ll be right back.”

As she rises away from him, a big hand darts out and wraps around her wrist. 

“Wait.” He’s holding her so tight his knuckles are white. “Don’t leave me.” His dark eyes are glassy and unfocused. Pleading. It pulls at something in her chest. 

“I’m not. I’m just getting the thermometer.” She pets his cheek gently and he closes his eyes to lean into it. “I’m staying. Don’t worry.”

Ben nods and his grip loosens before the hand drops away. Rey goes upstairs to hunt through the bathroom cabinets for the thermometer. Since he’s an only child, the main hall bathroom is all his. She starts there.

Under the sink, she sorts past deodorant and hair products until she finds a paper bag. Inside is a box of condoms, unopened. Her cheeks flush in an instant. She and Ben have only ever dated each other. They’ve messed around, but just over the clothes stuff. Heavy petting, making out, grinding on the couch. He’s never pushed her. They’re only sixteen and Ben knows she wants to wait until she’s married. So why the condoms? At least they’re not opened. She’ll wait to ask when he’s feeling better, if she’s brave enough.

Rey finally finds a thermometer in his parents’ medicine cabinet. When she comes back down, Ben’s listed over onto the arm of the couch, eyes half-lidded. It makes her heart clench.

“Open up.” She slides it under his big pink tongue as he looks up at her with doleful eyes. When it beeps, she chews on the side of her cheek. 

102.4. Shit, he’s really sick.

“When did it start?” she asks, pulling out her phone from her hoodie pocket. Time for Dr. Google.

“I woke up kind of dizzy. It got worse from there.” His voice has deepened noticeably and has a rasp like sandpaper. It makes him sound older and vaguely sinister.

She tightens her ponytail. “What are your symptoms? List them.”

He rubs his eyes and frowns. “Fatigue, sore throat, aches.”

“Body aches or headaches?”

“Both. Everything hurts.”

The closest thing she can find is the flu. “Did you get a flu shot this year?”

“Nah, we never do. Our family has complications. Something genetic.”

She got the shot, so maybe she’ll be fine. Rey scrolls through the treatment plan. “If nothing gets worse, then it’s just rest and fluids.”

“What ‘bout cuddles?”

She looks at him with her brows raised. He tries to muster a crooked smile, but it’s pretty pathetic. “Are they part of your treatment plan, Nurse Niima?”

“I don’t think they’re contra-indicated.” She quirks her lips to hide a smile. 

Ben always makes her smile.

“Good.” He unfurls his long arms to welcome her to his chest. She lays down and nestles into his side. He’s burning up under her cheek, but she relaxes into his hold. Ben sighs. It sounds content.

“Let’s just Netflix and chill,” Rey says. “I brought some soup.”

“The canned shit?”

“Of course the canned shit,” she pushes at his chest playfully. It’s like pushing against a rock. “It’s the best.”

“Won’t need to worry about sodium deficiency.” He picks up the remote and scrolls through the new movies. 

Ben lives outside of the city at the end of a shaded street. It’s nice and quiet, just the two of them. Nobody to bother them now, and Unkar thinks she’s at Rose’s. 

His voice returns, softer and more earnest. “I’m really glad you’re here.” Ben places a kiss on the crown of her head. His lips linger as he breathes her in. 

“Me too.” She smiles and watches the screen, still worried about him but placated for now. 

Her hand rests across his chest over his heart.

Ben needs her.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Who trusted God was love indeed  
> And love Creation's final law  
> Tho' Nature, red in tooth and claw  
> With ravine, shriek'd against his creed
> 
> -"In Memoriam A.H.H." by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
> 
> Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers  
> Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters
> 
> A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night  
> May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright
> 
> If you could only see the beast you've made of me  
> I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free
> 
> -“Howl” by Paul Epworth / Florence Welch


End file.
